


Taos Turquoise

by charli_v



Category: Original Work
Genre: Car Accidents, Depression, Epilepsy, F/F, Healing, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Domestic Violence, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 17:23:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17646737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charli_v/pseuds/charli_v
Summary: They met in New Mexico. The grieving girl and her angry counterpart, pulled by their red strings of fate, tangled together somewhere between Albuquerque and Taos.





	Taos Turquoise

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2016.

They met when the world was falling apart.

Alicia’s parents, gone in a blink. Their car almost cut in half in the intersection; the other driver with a cellphone in one hand and a can of beer in the other, his foot firmly on the gas and eyes everywhere but the red light over the intersection. He’d been killed as well. Alicia didn’t attend the funeral, just stayed home and drank herself into the toilet. Her parents left her more money than she knew what to do with at just 21 years old.

So she left Iowa.

Faye’s family was alive, but she kindled a secret burning desire for their deaths. Her father was barely ever home; the few times that he was he stank of beer and hit and screamed at Faye’s mother until she was cowering on the floor sobbing. Faye learned to hide in the bathroom or in her closet until the front door slammed behind him.

When she turned 19, she left California.

They met in New Mexico. The grieving girl and her angry counterpart, pulled by their red strings of fate, tangled together somewhere between Albuquerque and Taos. Neither could say how or when they met. It just happened, as these things sometimes do.

Alicia fell fast, so desperate for comfort in her time of grievance, and fell hard. She latched on to the outspoken and quietly haunted Faye; she mapped every inch of her pale skin with kisses, tangled her sturdy fingers into Faye's soft red curls, cried into her smooth shoulder, the salty tears dripping onto her skin. Faye held Alicia close and rubbed her back, kissing her tear-streaked cheeks and fighting her own emotion, quietly afraid that their peace could not last.

As broken as they both were, they found ways to heal together. Alicia bought them a home in Taos and found work at an auto shop. Faye joined all of the art clubs and learned to make pottery and paint landscapes and portraits to sell in local galleries.

Faye painted Alicia the most. Moody portraits in brilliant crimson and cobalt, she immortalized the slope of her shoulders, the glistening tear trails on her cheeks, the stark emerald of her eyes. Only Alicia was able to read her fears in the strokes of color on canvas; she smiled mysteriously when art critics tried to examine her works more thoroughly for meaning and symbolism.

There were bad days, days when Alicia’s loss hurt so profoundly that she couldn’t drag herself out of bed, when she pushed Faye away and drank until she passed out alone on the couch, when Faye had to carry her back to bed. Days when Faye couldn’t lift a brush to canvas, when she fought bitterly over nothing and spat words that burned her tongue and cut through Alicia’s heart until she shut herself in their room and cried, leaving Faye to plead with her through the door after she'd calmed down.

But there were so many more good days. When they fell into bed after a long day of work, too tired to do much more than trade lazy kisses, and when Alicia woke up to Faye’s tiny body in her arms the next morning, her face peaceful in slumber, it had been a good day.

So maybe the world had fallen apart, Faye said to her, but they had met and made their own new world, together.

* * *

The call came at two-thirty.

_Faye Grainger, you’re listed as Alicia Bowden’s emergency contact. I regret to inform you that she’s just been brought into the Taos Regional Hospital. She’s currently in critical condition._

Faye drove as fast as she could safely, the radio already on the rock channel ( _Alicia loved rock and metal_ ), some popular singer crooning for his dying lover. She tried to ignore it, hoping there were no cattle loose on the roads that night. The town was eerily empty, the hospital lights a beacon in the cool desert night.

She rushed in and found Alicia's room. The sight of her broke Faye's heart. Buried under the blankets and casts and tubes was her face. Skin once amusingly pale, now grey and broken: her eyes were closed over dark smudges, and dried blood was crusted around her brow and nose and lips. A huge bandage had been wrapped around her head like a towel.

_That’s the worst of it, the head trauma. She has brain damage that could cause epilepsy. We can’t say for sure until she wakes up._

Faye stayed by her side every day. She brought their friends, other people they’d met both in and outside of work. _Alicia is in a medically-induced coma_ , they told her. _She might not survive otherwise. Her body needs to stabilize again, adjust to the shock._

She tried to imagine what Alicia was dreaming of. Faye painted Alicia crawling blindly through a dark cave, hands extended in supplication, a plead for light and freedom and life. It felt artificial. She put it in the attic and started another. Didn’t like that one, either. It became a cycle.

For the first time she thought about children. Wondered if Alicia would want to raise a child with her. Wondered if she’d be able to, after this. _Nothing was physically damaged_ , they said, _but the brain scans didn’t look promising._ She still hadn’t stabilized enough for waking up to be safe.

Alicia’s body started to collapse under the strain. Her organs shut down. She looked normal, but there were more things beside her bed that were not people, cold and unfeeling machines that did the work for her body. Faye held her clammy limp hand and begged her to be strong.

One morning the machines had beeped louder and faster and Alicia had let out a quiet groan, shifting for the first time in too long. Time had passed, Faye didn’t know how much, but she didn’t ponder it. Tears dripped down her face when Alicia opened her eyes and said, _Faye. I dreamed about you._

She was weak. Her body was still only half-functional, and lying comatose in a hospital bed for two weeks had effectively rid her of all muscle tone. But she met each day with newfound courage and determination. Alicia fought her depression and adapted to her new handicaps and kissed Faye countless times every day in spite of doctor's scolding.

Alicia seemed to be alright; she recovered quickly from the bodily injuries and worked up her strength again. But then there was something on the TV that hurt her, and she fell into a seizure, shuddering and mumbling nonsense with Faye panicking at her side until the doctors arrived, unsurprised. One had given her a booklet on epilepsy with a grim expression and told her to keep the TV off around Alicia.

There were changes after that. Alicia was no longer fit for work. She was laid off and given her last bonus, a parting gift. Faye struggled to find a better job, unable to keep up with Alicia and the house and their dwindling finances all at once. Alicia’s hospital fees had used up the last of her parents’ money. Faye had nothing to give.

When they needed something most, they were unable to find it. Friends grew distanced. Alicia’s dark moods were worse than ever. She disappeared into their room once and slept for three days straight. She fought with Faye over trivial things and collapsed into tears when she shouted back.

There was a day Faye would never be able to forget: she’d come home with groceries and couldn’t find Alicia in her usual spots on the couch or in their bedroom. She’d found her crying in the bathtub with a razor pressed to the skin of her wrist, already bleeding from tiny hesitation cuts.

She hadn’t even written a note. That was what scared Faye the most. She couldn’t know why Alicia wanted to take her life, if she even thought once of her, because she refused to speak to her after it. She found a therapist for her. More money they didn’t have.

Rinse and repeat.

* * *

Somehow, Faye managed it. Within a year and a half, she found a good job and was able to get better care for Alicia, put her in a special hospital for a few months so she didn’t have to worry about coming home to a corpse. She was eventually able to reconnect with the parts of Alicia she’d fallen in love with and, with help, connect to the new parts, too. She paid off their debts and bought them a better house, one with muted colors and handrails in the tub. A house they could grow old in. There was even a studio with 10 foot windows all around, overlooking the Rio Grande gorge from its perch.

They got married and adopted a daughter.

Alicia had brought it up, nervous and expecting to be disappointed. _We’ve been together for ten years, and you’re the best thing that’s happened to me. Faye, will you marry me?_

_Of course._

And later: _Did you ever think about having children, Faye?_

 _It’s always seemed daunting, but yes. I want to have kids someday._ She’d smiled a peculiar smile at Alicia then, clasped her hand in her own. _You’ll make a great mother, Alicia_.

Their little girl was named April, the month of her birth. Red-faced and blonde, just two years old, she squealed and grabbed Alicia’s finger in her tiny fist and Faye watched her eyes light up with something she’d never seen there before.

Hope.


End file.
